


As Long As He's Safe

by colorofmymind



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: But Nothing Like A Near-Mortal Injury To Bring You And Your Bae-To-Be Closer Together!, Feelings Realization, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Like They Know But They Don't Know Because They're Idiots, M/M, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: "Arthur was used to the wounded. He’d been treated for many injuries since he first started training as a knight, seen his fellow brothers fall beside him in battle, some never to return to their feet. It was a rare instance, if he was wounded, that he was in mortal peril.But whenever Merlin managed to cross into the foray of the lances and spears and poisoned goblets, it was always catastrophic."Merlin is injured in an attack, Arthur cares for him, and certain revelations are made about the bond between the king and his sorcerer.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 221





	As Long As He's Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicalmysticalmanservant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmysticalmanservant/gifts).



Arthur was used to the wounded. He’d been treated for many injuries since he first started training as a knight, seen his fellow brothers fall beside him in battle, some never to return to their feet. It was a rare instance, if he was wounded, that he was in mortal peril. 

But whenever Merlin managed to cross into the foray of the lances and spears and poisoned goblets, it was always catastrophic.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” his court sorcerer asked breathlessly. 

Currently, he had his back propped up against a tree, wincing slightly as Arthur knotted his scarlet cloak around Merlin’s bloody midriff. It was not good, Arthur had enough sense to admit to himself at any rate. 

Everything had happened so quickly, as attacks and wounds always did in the heat of battle. The bandits had come upon Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and Leon without warning in the Darkling Woods as they returned from visiting the towns further out from the citadel. They had all fought in earnest, but it had been Merlin who pinned the rogues against the trees, felled branches in convenient places, transformed their weapons into bouquets of daisies. It had been an easy fight, as most of them had been since Merlin started openly using his magic. 

Arthur had just dispatched the last bandit when he turned to see a blade protruding from Merlin’s stomach, the helm held by a dying bandit half on the ground. Truthfully, he only vaguely registered Leon’s and Gwaine’s anguished cries, he had been so caught up in the horrific sight of the blood pouring out of the wound and then spilling dark red over Merlin’s lips and chin as he coughed more up. Arthur’s sword fell from his hand, and he rushed forward to catch his friend as it was clear Merlin’s legs could no longer support him. With an arm wrapped around his midriff and neck, Arthur had slowly lowered Merlin to lean against the tree, careful of the weapon still very much burrowed inside. Pulling it out would have only increased the likelihood of him bleeding out faster. Distantly, he had heard Gwaine end the bandit’s life with a string of curses. 

In a panic, Arthur had sent Leon and Gwaine to retrieve Gaius at breakneck speed, trusting he could attend to Merlin and stay the bleeding in the meantime. Neither had questioned the order. Now, he was praying to any god that would listen that Merlin could be spared from death. 

“Gaius will be here soon,” was his answer, because it was and always had been easier for him to avoid the truth than outright lie. “Why couldn’t you just heal yourself with magic?” 

“I’ve told you, I’m not good with healing magic,” Merlin explained in a tired way. “Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble with you if I was.” 

The younger man’s eyelids began to droop and flutter close, and Arthur knew what that inevitably led to. He placed his gloved hand on Merlin’s shoulder, shaking it slightly to rouse him, only getting Merlin to open his eyes, which were worriedly unfocused. In an attempt to ground him, Arthur threw off his glove and threaded his fingers through the man’s hair, and Merlin rasped a breath in surprise. 

“You are not allowed to die, Merlin,” Arthur stated, attempting to sound firm but failing. “That’s an order from your king.” 

“You know how well I listen to those,” he said with mirth sparkling in his eyes. 

Those eyes, whether they reflected the cool waters of Avalon or the fiery light of the sun, was something Arthur was finding himself increasingly lost in nowadays. 

“Then do it for me. Stay for me.” 

He always struggled not to make everything sound like a command, but he hoped Merlin would hear it as it was meant to be: a plea. The court sorcerer’s gaze seemed to soften in turn. 

“I would never leave you, Arthur. Not if I can help it.” 

Merlin grimaced as he shifted slightly, and Arthur gripped his hip firmly with a spare hand. 

“Don’t move. What do you need?” 

“Water,” Merlin mumbled. “Mouth tastes funny.” 

Luckily, Arthur still had a mostly full waterskin on his person. With care, he lifted it to Merlin’s lips who then drank in steady gulps. After the man was done, Arthur took the waterskin and Merlin’s neckerchief, adorned round his neck, and reverently wiped away the dried blood from his face. In the years that Merlin had used magic and Arthur had known, he as king had become used to the sorcerer’s seemingly unlimited power and assumed Merlin to be invulnerable to practically any threat. It had been a very long time since he had to look at Merlin’s prone, lithe form and feel any cause to worry. 

“There. Now you look half decent,” Arthur assessed, eyes purposefully averting the sword still in Merlin’s stomach.

Even in his state, skirting close to death, Merlin was willing to play along. 

“Half?” He asked, mock-offended. “What would I have to do to look fully decent?” 

“Get rid of that neckerchief for a start.” 

“In your dreams, clotpole,” Merlin grinned. 

But it was just a shadow of the smiles that warmed Arthur’s heart on even the darkest of days. A sense of desperation hit him keenly, and the reason for the depth of his worry, his fear that Merlin would not make it out of this alive made itself known in his heart—it was not the undercurrent of feeling that ran his veins when a brother in arms was felled, this was a much deeper, more complex and all-consuming force, an unspoken love that had likely controlled his heart and mind for some time now finally making itself known. 

Arthur surged from where he was crouched, pressing an impassioned kiss to Merlin’s forehead, hoping to impress all of his love that he vainly hoped could sustain the other man. 

“There is something I must tell you. Something you must know now,” he whispered brokenly, lips forming the words against the sorcerer’s brow. 

“I thought I was the only one keeping secrets,” Merlin spoke just as quietly. 

“Still?” Arthur questioned, dread starting to settle in his gut, the familiar fear of betrayal fresh even after all these years. He did not break the contact between them, though. “What more don’t I know?” 

“It’s just the one secret now,” Merlin reassured softly. “I think it may be the same as yours.” 

The rushed gallop of three horses sounded the approach of Leon, Gwaine, and now Gaius, the former two helping the physician off of his horse and over to where they had left Arthur and Merlin. 

“Sire, Merlin, I—” Arthur finally willed himself to draw back from the court sorcerer as Gaius hovered above them with his medical supplies. “I must see to Merlin’s wounds immediately, sire, if he is to be healed.” 

“Of course,” the king said as he stepped away. “Do everything you can for him.” 

They would have time for these things, Arthur reasoned to himself as he watched Gaius tend to Merlin. Time to talk, to hold, and, potentially, to love without fear of it all slipping away.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a track on The How To Train Your Dragon: Hidden World OST because yes I am that nerd, and this is obviously set in a canon divergent AU where Arthur found out about Merlin's magic, accepted it and things were much better. This was written for magicalmysticalmanservant, who asked for a Merthur hurt/comfort drabble for their birthday today and got an over 1k oneshot instead (my bad!) But it was a lot of fun to write since I'd never tried my hand at Merthur before, even if it was written in just a few hours (so obviously un-betaed). Hopefully you all enjoyed it, and kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
